


Gestures

by Actually_Crowley



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Secret hobby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actually_Crowley/pseuds/Actually_Crowley
Summary: Newton finds out what Hermann does with his rare free time, but the discovery leads him to believe that Hermann honestly and unequivocally hates him.





	Gestures

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure about this one, but I've got it on good authority that I should ABSOLUTELY post it, so. :'D Have a thing a wrote.

Despite the fact that Dr. Newton Geiszler and Dr. Hermann Gottlieb were the only scientists left in the research department, sometimes the work just ran out too quickly.

Hermann would crunch all the numbers and figures he had, and Newton would run out of samples to dissect, and then they had to wait. It was frustrating to wait for the next attack, the next potential moment where they might die, in order to have more information and therefore more to do. On days like this, weeks like this if Hermann’s numbers were to be believed (and they were never wrong), they could do nothing but finalise reports and feel useless.

Newton had busied himself with spinning in a swivel chair using his desk as leverage, occasionally spinning out too far and kicking the side of his desk with a grunt of pain. He move the chair a little further away and start up again.

Hermann was across the room and gave an audible huff of annoyance when he swung too far and clattered against his desk again. “Honestly, Dr. Geiszler, is there nothing else you can occupy your time with?”

Newton paused his spinning, with made his vision wobble, and grinned in Hermann’s general direction. “I mean usually I’m giving you shit about your predictions, but you’re not making any of those right now. And here I thought you’d appreciated the silence.”

Hermann gestured at Newton with a finger stained black with something. His pen must have exploded. “ _That_ is not silence. That is childish, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

Newton tried to focus his eyes on the hand with the stain, but it was difficult with the room spinning as it was. “Nah, I used to hit the Zipper nonstop when fairs were still a thing. I’ll be fine.” He began spinning the other way in attempt to ‘unwind’ his head, even though he knew perfectly well that’s not how it worked. “I just can’t believe you’re still looking over your reports. I thought for sure you’d be way ahead of those. You usually are.”

Hermann rolled his eyes and dipped his head back to his work. “I’m not working on reports. I _am_ ahead of those, thank you. I’m simply busying myself with something considerably less maddening than your chosen activity.”

Newton stopped his chair, the room still spinning exactly like he figured it would, and shook his head. “Whatcha working on?”

Newton didn’t even get the chance to get up from his chair before Hermann slammed the black book shut. “None of your damn business, Newton.” He tucked away something in a drawer on his desk and pushed the book aside.

Newton stood and walked over anyway. “Holy shit, harsh. I’m just curious, man. What does the human calculator do when he’s not making improbable predictions or yelling at me?”

Hermann took visible offense to the word ‘improbable’ and glared from his seat. “Improb- My science is the only guarantee in this bloody lab, it’s yours that should come under the category of ‘improbable’. Improbable, questionable, _impossible_ , just like the man behind it all-”

Hermann was probably still talking. Newton tuned him out while somehow looking straight at him. He prided himself on that talent, and he enjoyed exercising it frequently in front of Hermann just to piss him off. But also, he liked to watch his face. He knew every twitch of Hermann’s eyebrow and what it meant, he knew how wild his eyes were when he was _really_ furious, and that told Newton when he had to dodge the inevitable piece of chalk that was expertly chucked at his head.

Today, he was ignoring Hermann in favour of studying the barest of marks just by Hermann’s ear. It was black, like whatever had stained Hermann’s fingers had made its way to his face at some point. Eventually, Newt opened his mouth and finally stopped the tirade. “Ah, so the answer is ‘still yell at me’. Cool, glad you somehow still answered my question while simultaneously not answering me, which is a neat trick.”

Hermann blinked in the silence. “…Did you even listen to a word I said!?”

Newt grinned and shrugged. “You lost me at ‘Oh, you’re impossible, Newton, even though you’re right’.” He gave his best over-the-top Hermann impression.

Hermann gawked at him, with a look in his eyes that was either trying to set him on fire or figure out if he was human. Maybe both. He stabbed his cane onto the floor and stood up, stacking his books in furious fashion. “I swear,” He said, “All the scientists in all the world left who study these blasted beasts, and the only one who sticks around is _you!_ ” He tucks the books under one arm, looking frustrated and exhausted.

Newton felt a nugget of guilt growing in the pit of his stomach as Hermann began walking out. He honestly hadn’t thought he’d been all that insulting this time around, but then again, with dwindling funds and the lack of research and materials during the lulls, perhaps his nerves were more at an end that Newton had thought. He should apologise. “Hey, Hermann?”

Hermann paused at the exit of the lab, daring a sceptical glance over his shoulder.

Newton took a deep breath. “You got something on your face. About here.” Newton gestured to his cheek.

Nailed it.

Hermann’s eyes widened in outrage. He wiped at his face and found the black there on his fingers. He huffed and fumbled with his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, wiping the mark off. “…Of all people… why you…?” He sounded furious. He sounded _hurt._

Newton winced as Hermann marched away. If he hadn’t gone too far before, he certainly had now. Hermann usually had an insulting quip to hurl back as he walked away, but not today. Maybe the death toll was getting to him? Maybe the dwindling of their forces and the inevitability of death was finally catching up to him?

It certainly was doing so to Newton. But that was why he needed the banter. Hermann’s constant retort kept him going and kept him distracted from the impending doom. They worked in tandem as well as against each other, like a race. They got things done much faster together, and that was likely why they had stuck together for so long.

Even despite all their fighting and arguing, Hermann had only once asked for a transfer, years ago, and it hadn’t lasted a week. Five days later, Hermann had been back in the lab, yelling about an intern that ruined his plans to get away from Newton once and for all. From what Newton had been able to glean from word of mouth, Hermann had grown so furious with said intern-from-the-other-lab’s mistakes that he yelled at the man until he cried. Newton had scoffed at that. _He_ wouldn’t have cried. He wouldn’t have gotten things wrong, first of all, but he wouldn’t have cried either. He gave as good as he got, and Newton assumed that, with Hermann’s return, Hermann realised that the endless battle between them was the catalyst for their good work.

But maybe he’d been wrong, and he was really driving Hermann away now. Hermann just didn’t have anywhere else to go and couldn’t escape.

Newton gave it twenty minutes before deciding to head to the quarters and apologise officially. He still didn’t think he deserved _this_ amount of grief for his minimal jabs, but sometimes volatile solutions in beakers needed to be handled carefully after a certain amount of time had passed.

He paced the halls, giving people short nods of ‘don’t say it’ when they eyed him knowingly. It hadn’t been long, they’d probably seen Hermann march through.

Passing by Tendo was going to be harder. The dapper man twirled a book in his hands. “‘Ey there, Newt. Trouble in paradise?”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious as always.” Newton gestured down the hall. “Herms go to his room?”

Tendo nodded. “Uh, yeah. Actually, if you’re headed that way, you mind bringing this to him?” He held out the book to Newton. “He was ranting about you so hard, he dropped this and didn’t notice. I was gonna just drop it off in the lab, but if you’re on your way to him anyway-”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Newton grabbed it.

“Thanks.” Tendo smiled, glancing down at his hand, wiping it off on his already dark pants. “Watch that book, there’s oil or something on it. Keep it G rated in there, huh?” Tendo shot him a finger gun and made his way around the corner.

Newton stared after him. He glanced down at the book and pulled his hand away, and sure enough, a familiar black mark came away on his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together and frowned at it. It was dry. It wasn’t oil.

It was charcoal.

Newton looked at the book again and realised that he’d seen this book. It was the one Hermann had been working in before he slammed it shut and walked out. Newton’s original plan of following Hermann left his brain, and he pulled open the cover of the book with a wide grin.

He was met with a slightly blurry, charcoal gesture drawing of a jaeger. Newt stared at it. It was sketchy but so purposeful and concise there there was no mistake; this was drawn by Hermann’s hand. The only thing that blurred the drawing was its age.

He heard footsteps and slammed the book shut, making a beeline not for Hermann’s room but his own. He had it now, he couldn’t waste his chance to look through the whole thing. He’d apologise to Hermann later, when he was done marveling his work again. Hermann never ceased to amaze him.

~

After going through page after page, Newton found himself pinching the pages to find more. He was sat on his bed, shoes off, with the book in his lap, and he’d been flipping back and forth for at least an hour.

The drawings didn’t stop at jaegers. Sketch after sketch, there were jaeger pilots, scientists they no longer worked with, j-tech members, a lovingly rendered sketch of Marshall Stacker Pentecost’s serious face at a new angle every twelve or so pages, and just as many of Mako, seeming to begin from when they met her, and continued until present. There were sketches of visiting government officials, always drawn in an unflattering pose that Newton guessed was either in mid-explanation as to why a branch had its funding cut, or that it didn’t matter that yet another jaeger had gone down, they wouldn’t be needed anyway. Newton wanted more, not only because each and every drawing was full of such talent- such evidence of practice- that Newton couldn’t get enough.

But there were also no drawings on any of the pages of Newton. Not one.

Hermann had drawn j-techs and awful politicians, he’d drawn the cafeteria staff and the janitors, but not one perfect sketch was of Dr. Newton Geiszler. Newton eventually closed the book and sat back against the pillows he’d propped up. Hermann hadn’t drawn Newton. Why hadn’t he drawn Newton? Was he just around too often that he didn’t feel the need to capture his likeness on paper? Or did Hermann really hate him that much?

Shit, he’d been such an asshole to Hermann. That had to be it. Hermann had hated him from the get-go, the moment they’d met and Newton’s physical self and attitude ruined the visage that Hermann had built of him from his letters, and he had never bothered with the effort to draw him. Newton hadn’t given him a single reason to change his opinion.

Oh god, Hermann actually hated him. Newton sat with his hand over his mouth as the realisation sank in.

He had to apologise, but he was almost afraid of seeing Hermann now. Would he accept the apology? Or would he just be upset that Newt looked through his book? He shouldn’t have looked.

The next morning, Hermann would find the book haphazardly on the floor somewhere outside his door. He would maybe assume he’d dropped it, which was true enough to be plausible.

Newton knew things had to change. He really didn’t want to lose Hermann’s company just because Newton worked better in adversity.

~

Hermann was awake early the following day. If his calculations were correct (which they were, and he scowled at any rangers at breakfast who made light of his numbers; he hoped they would be prepared for battle), the next attack would happen today. He and Newton had to be ready for the information and samples they would be receiving, so at least they had something resembling work to do while they waited. With any luck, this kill would be quick. With any luck, there would be no casualties. But they knew those odds were slim.

This morning felt strange. Despite Newton being exactly the type pf person to sleep until noon, he was usually awake at the crack of dawn right with Hermann. Today, Hermann hadn’t seen him. Newt was always in the hall waiting, or pretending like he’d just left his room. If he wasn’t there, he’d beaten him to breakfast. But the hallway offered Hermann no sign of Newton, or anyone. He’d found one of his sketchbooks propped by the wall, haphazardly like it he had dropped in his rush to get to a place without prying eyes, and somehow this hall had been clear of people ever since.

He lifted it and tucked it away in the stack under his arm and had made his way to breakfast.

Newton wasn’t there either. Hermann had been rather short with Newton the night previously, and he thought he might apologise. He hadn’t meant to react as harshly as he had, but he had felt that his reaction was appropriate. Newton was insensible when they had nothing to do. He seemed like a hamster running on a wheel going nowhere and got manic. Hermann felt he deserved his own outburst for once.

He knew he should probably lead with the apology when he walked in, because if he gave Newton any time to speak, he might not feel Newton deserved it by the time he was done.

The lab crawled into view and Hermann inhaled his resolve. He could admit his overreaction just this once.

Upon entering the lab, the first thing he noticed was that it was quiet. At first he would have assumed that Newton wasn’t present, and that was the reason why, but even a cursory glance revealed Newton on his side of the lab already setting up his tables for the inevitable onslaught of kaiju parts. The tables were much further from the line than Hermann was used to. There was no music. Newton was being _quiet._

Hermann cleared his throat to interrupt Newton’s set up. “Good morning, Dr. Geiszler,” He started, hovering in the doorway. “I-… Concerning yesterday-”

Newton held up a hand from where he was crouched under the table he was putting together. “No no, hold that thought!” He moved to sit up and cracked his head on the underside of the pane, giving a yelp and rubbing his head as he stood.

Hermann rolled his eyes and began walking into the lab. “Honestly, Newton-”

“Hermann, I’m sorry.”

Hermann’s cane stabbed the floor too hard in his step, and he froze. “…I beg your pardon?”

Newton dragged his hand through his hair. “I’m just… I’m sorry. Okay? I know you can’t stand me, or most of the shit I do, and I went out of my way to push your buttons yesterday because I was bored, and that was childish.”

Hermann words failed him. His own apology for overreacting was stuck in his throat and wouldn’t move. “I-…” The confusion stayed in his eyes, but he tried to relax his tense shoulders. “I accept your apology, Newton. Thank you.” He inhaled through his nose and marched past him towards his desk. Somehow, he’d let Newton speak first and still felt sorry. In the unnerving quiet of the lab, he glanced over his shoulder at him. “I am sorry as well, for what it’s worth. Your work is very important, and I didn’t mean to claim otherwise. I’m… a bit on edge is all. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Newton blinked at him, quiet for considerably longer than usual as he appeared to taste his own words for once before speaking. He took a calculated breath and smiled. “Nah, pretty sure I deserved it. You don’t have to apologise.” He craned his neck and rubbed his head again. “Uh, I got in kinda early, so I’m almost all set up already. If you need help with anything, let me know. I’ll just. Be over here. On my side.” He ducked back across the line, per his own words, and back under the table to continue tightening the bolts holding it up.

Hermann stared, speechless. What the hell had happened to Newton? This wasn’t Newton, this wasn’t his Newton at all. This was a helpful, quiet, respectful lab partner that Hermann had demanded Newton be replaced with many a time. He huffed, inaudible, and made his way to his desk, pulling up his chair and sitting heavily into it. He brought up the figures with missing information and began committing them to memory to transliterate to his boards. He could probably do the work on his computer, but it just didn’t feel right.

Like the silence they were working in.

Any moment, Hermann expected Newton’s music to start playing, or even just Newton to start humming along with a song that couldn’t possibly exist, but there was nothing. Newton even seemed to be making efforts to make as little noise as possible.

Newton wouldn’t last long this way. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in his nature.

He should probably just enjoy it while it lasted, Hermann thought.

So why couldn’t he?

~

Hours later, with the attack imminent at at moment, Hermann had his second scare of what was turning out to be an eventful day.

“Dr. Gottlieb?”

The name was not alarming so much as the voice that said it. Hermann nearly dropped his chalk and turned to Newton, who was still on his side of the line and regarding him with a question. “…Newton?”

“Sorry, could I just get that ETA again? I was gonna go grab some food before we gotta get to work. I could grab you some tea, I think they’ve got some earl grey left.” He thumbed behind him toward the lab exit.

Hermann stared at him, looking up and down the distance that Newton was keeping between them by staying on his side of the workspace. He sighed and slowly descended his ladder. “Some tea would be lovely, but you may want to consider waiting until after the attack. It isn’t a set time so much as a window, and we’re within it now.” He made it to the bottom step and staggered on the last.

Newton broke his new apparently rule of staying off Hermann’s side to hover behind him. “Whoa! I gotcha. You good?” He hands caught Hermann’s arms too lightly, too carefully from behind.

Hermann was incensed. “For goodness sake, Newton!” He flapped his arms free of Newton’s hold and turned to glare at him with frustration. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m not amused.”

Newton gaped at him. “I- What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to be nice.”

“After five years? Five years of being a nuisance, and today you choose to be _nice?_ ” Hermann shook his head. “No, I don’t want you to get me tea, or food, I want to know what’s wrong!”

Newton opened his mouth, but he mulled over what he wanted to say. What he _should say._ He closed his mouth and said nothing. Hermann’s chest filled with something that _hurt._

And then the alarm sounded.

Hermann felt his nerves alight, and he jumped so hard Newton flinched as well. Newton held his arms up as if to catch him again, but he thought better of it and dropped them back to his sides. Hermann sighed and turned away from him. “Of course, it couldn’t pick a more inopportune time…” He turned back to his boards and picked up his chalk again. “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of talking about this.”

Newton’s gaze dropped and he backed away to return to his side of the lab. He still said nothing as he retreated, only breaking his silence to apologise again.

Hermann felt sick.

~

The silence continued for days. Newton kept to himself, only playing music through headphones, and his tables were as far as they could be from the line without being against the opposite wall to ensure his new kaiju entrails stayed on his side where they belonged. He was being so damn perfect.

It was infuriating.

Newton had promised, when Hermann finally pinned him down to talk, that nothing was wrong, and that he just felt like a change was in order. Hermann wanted to take it at face value, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Newton had changed over night and given him no substantial explanation, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He tried only once to bring it up to Marshal Pentecost, who eyed him with the most incredulous stare he’d ever seen. “So, Dr. Geiszler is leaving you be, keeping to his side of the lab, and is quiet… and you wish to lodge a complaint?”

“N-Not a complaint, a _concern._ I only wish to be sure of his health is all, it was a sudden change.”

“Have you tried asking?”

Hermann gripped his cane. “I did. He just tells me he’s making an effort to be less irritating so I can work in peace.”

Pentecost’s eyebrow rose again.

Hermann went pink. “But I know he’s keeping something from me! Newton is not _secretive,_ he doesn’t know the meaning of the word!”

“Dr. Gottlieb, the way I see it, Dr. Geiszler is doing you a favour. You should thank him, and actually do your work in peace like he’s allowing.” The marshal had turned heel from him and marched away, ignoring Hermann’s broken attempts to call him back to try and do something about it.

So he couldn’t take the issues to anyone of authority. He was going to have to try something else, but he didn’t know what.

This day had dragged on. He had his new numbers and readings, but he couldn’t seem to plug them into the existing data in anyway that made sense. He’d reach the end of one formula and end with a result that broke several laws of physics. He scoff, wipe the entire thing with a sleeve that was turning white at this point, and start over.

The evening wore on, and Newton approached the line but didn’t cross it, as he’d done the past few nights. “I’m heading to bed, man, it’s getting late. Need me to get you anything before I go?”

Hermann groaned and checked the time. It was past midnight. “My sanity, if you can find the blasted thing.”

Newton gave a laugh, louder than he apparently meant and short, and looked at the floor. “Yeah, I think we’re fresh out of that here.” He tapped his toe on the ground and gave him a wave. “Night, Dr. Gottlieb. Don’t stay up too late.” He turned from Hermann before he could say anything else, and walked out of the lab.

Hermann pursed his lips and stared at the piece of chalk that he was gripping too hard. “…Hermann,” He mumbled after him, even though Newton was far too gone to hear. “…You used to call me Hermann.”

The silence that followed after Newton left was no different than the silence that was present with Newton now. Hermann couldn’t think. He didn’t have a sarcastic comment or criticism to fire back against, and the silence was driving him mad. Newton seemed afraid to even approach him.

Hermann had to get to the bottom of this.

He slid his boards away from the night and gathered his books. Hopefully, he could talk some sense into Newton early, and he could head to bed immediately after with the promise that Newton was going to be his irritating self again in the morning, as he should be.

The hall was empty. He and Newton were always the only ones up this late, and that made his trek that much easier. No obstacles. No witnesses.

He made it to Newton’s door and smacked his cane against it.

~

Newton hadn’t even made it to his bed when there was a rapping on his door. It was loud, decidedly not a hand, and almost frantic. Newton yanked the door open, ready to be annoyed or angry, and saw Hermann there. All his anger deflated. “Uh… Hey?” Hermann looked irritated by something, and Newton couldn’t help but think it was something he’d done somehow. “What’s up?”

Hermann all but shoved past him. “Out of my way.”

Newton dodged him to avoid being bowled over. “Uh, you may not wanna- I mean it’s a mess in here, man, you-”

“I do not _care_ the state in which you keep your room, Newton, it’s your space.” He angrily set his books down on a table with barely any room, and threw a pair of discarded pants haphazardly to the floor to sit in his chair.

Newton winced at him as he scooped a long sleeved thermal off the floor to throw on. “Uh, sure, yeah. Make yourself at home.” He straightened the shirt out once it was on and tugged his sleeves as far over his tattoos as he could. Hermann didn’t like them, and as much as old Newton would claim he shouldn’t have come busting into his room and should just deal with the view he brought on himself, he didn’t want to burn what little of the bridge there was left. He’d made an effort to hide his tattoos the past few days, he could handle keeping them covered a few more minutes.

He took a breath. “So uh, what can I do for-”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Newton blinked at him. Hermann was angry with him. What on Earth had he done that upset him? He’d been trying so hard. “Uh…” He wasn’t sure what to say. “I _was_ going to bed-”

Hermann held his hand up. “Stop.” Newton did. Hermann began again. “For the past three days, you have been quiet, well behaved, and clean. You’ve kept to your side, and only spoken to me to ask if I need anything.” Newton opened his mouth to speak. Hermann inhaled fast and continued before he could. “And the only explanation you can give me is that you’re trying to be _considerate,_ which was never something that stood in the way of your science before.”

Newton pressed his lips together. Shit. Shit.

Hermann stomped his cane down on the floor. “I demand to know why, Newton!”

Newton deflated. God, why the hell did Hermann care? He should have been ecstatic. Why couldn’t Newton do anything right in Hermann’s eyes? He tugged his glasses off with a frustrated sigh and gripped the bridge of his nose. “Because I don’t want you to hate me, Hermann!”

Hermann flinched. Newton looked immediately apologetic, regretting that the first real answer he gave Hermann was yelling. Before he could apologise, Hermann spoke. “Oh for goodness sake, Newton, I already don’t hate you. You don’t have to do any of these things to-”

“Why haven’t you drawn me then?” Newton said it before he could stop himself.

Hermann went blank. Newton watched his eyes grow wide and his face go pink to his ears. Oh god, Hermann was embarrassed. His shoulders rose and his previously present confidence diminished. “Newton-”

Newton cut him off. “I know, I shouldn’t have gone through your book, and I’m sorry, but I…” He sighed. “I just realised that I’ve been a constant in your life for years, and not one of those drawings is… me. It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. I know it is, but… Hermann the only other constant in your life that I didn’t see in that book are the kaiju, and you- you hate them, so. Two and two is four.” He gestured to the stack of books. “I don’t even really care that you haven’t drawn me, I’m just not happy with why, okay? I thought maybe you worked well when we fought too, I thought maybe it kept you going like it did me, but I was… I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

Hermann continued to stare. Newton felt small under the gaze, and he felt bad for snooping, and he felt ridiculous for making such a fuss about it.

Hermann didn’t look any less indignant. “Two plus-… Newton, you’re not even in the right mathematics _textbook,_ let alone using the right equation.” He gripped his cane as if to stand and thought better of it. He looked to Newton and then to the floor. He turned to the stack of books he’d brought with him and gave a sigh.

Hermann tugged the sketchbook from the bottom and held it out to him. When Newton slowly reached out to take it, Hermann gave him a nervous smile. “Wrong book entirely,” Hermann said.

Newton’s brow creased as he pulled the book to his lap. He pulled the cover open, barely an inch, and something slid out. It was a old napkin, with ink bleeding through its layers. He picked it up carefully by the corner and flipped it over.

It was a pen drawing of him. He was beaming, looked breathless and a little rained on. He looked ecstatic. Newton stared at himself for a while. When was this from? It couldn’t have been- His thumb shifted a bit to see a printed name in the corner of the napkin, just beneath his sketched shoulder. He ran his finger over it. “This was… from the cafe, when we met?”

“You’ll want to be careful, there are many loose scraps that may fall out.” Hermann warned, not responding to the inquiry and not lifting his gaze from the floor.

Newton laid the book a little flatter and opened the cover fully. He found himself staring back at him again. He was the first page, looking just a bit younger than he was now. It couldn’t have been more than a few years ago. He tucked the napkin back where it belonged and turned the page. There he was again, but not looking at the viewer this time. He was laid back on something, head hanging over an edge with a pencil balanced between his nose and lip. Newton snorted despite himself. He turned the page again. And again. And again. Was he on _every_ page? There was even a page of hands that were definitively his, if the quick renders of the tattoos at the wrists said anything.

He turned another page, and a scrap slid toward him, another napkin, with a pen scribble of him holding his head in his hands with a small date scribbled below it. He knew that date. The PPDC had lost a lot of pilots that day, and Newton had done his best to be optimistic on the outside. Hermann had caught the one moment he’d allowed himself to feel it.

He was on the next page, and the next few scraps that tumbled out in various states of being, and the next page, and the next. This entire sketchbook was full of him. Newton, eyes wide, finally dared to look up at Hermann.

Hermann’s gaze was still firmly on the ground. His shoulders were hunched, and he was red to his ears. He was still embarrassed. Humiliated. _Ashamed._

On the one hand, Newton really didn’t blame him for being embarrassed. Hermann had an entire sketchbook full of doodles and drawings of Newton. On the other hand, Newton felt something hot and wanting bubbling in his chest. Did this mean what he hoped it meant? “H-Hermann-”

Hermann bristled and interrupted again. “As you can see, I cannot possibly hate you. So if that’s your concern, you can forget it, because it isn’t nearly correct-”

Newton laughed. “Jesus Christ, will you let me talk?”

Hermann finally looked up, trying to look insulted, but he stilled when he saw Newton’s face. The pink cheeks remained.

Newton closed the sketchbook and set it carefully on the bedside table. He pulled the first napkin free and took a few short steps to Hermann, holding it out. “Hermann, these are- Well, they’re amazing, holy shit, let’s start with that. Probably should have started with that when I saw them the first time, we probably wouldn’t have had to go through this bullshit.” He looked down at the napkin. “I… Hermann, what-… I mean why-…” He didn’t know what he was trying to ask. “…When was this? Like, I know it was at the cafe, clearly. I forgot it was raining that day.”

Hermann looked down at his hands. “It was… the moment you saw me. You were so happy to see me, and I wanted to remember what you looked like… before what transpired after.” He ducked his head. “Then I kept finding ways I wanted to remember you. Carefree. Ridiculous. …Human, in case anyone else needs the reminder.” He carefully took the napkin from him and looked down at the elated face of Newton upon it. He let his thumb rest on the edge of his drawn face. Newton’s breath caught in his throat. “You don’t look at me like this anymore.” He carefully laid the napkin drawing on his stack of books.

Newton kneeled down in front of him almost immediately. “Then you haven’t been paying attention, dude.”

Hermann lifted his eyes to meet Newton’s finally. They stared with a question, and Newton hoped his own gave the answer he was looking for. Hermann searched his eyes for what felt like minutes, and Newton was willing to let him keep searching for as long as it took.

Hermann’s hand rose slowly, cupping the side of Newton’s face. Newton leaned into it, and Hermann gave an relieved, exhausted laugh. “You foolish man. You couldn’t just say something like a normal person, could you?”

Newton shrugged. “Eh, I might’ve been wrong. I couldn’t possibly risk being wrong out loud.”

“Again,” Hermann added.

Newton snorted and faked a glare. “Oh, you’re breaking out the sass early, huh?” He stood away from Hermann and out of his reach.

“Would you forgive me if I didn’t?” Hermann stood as well to remain taller.

“Hell no.”

“Good.” Hermann hung his cane on the side of the desk and took a experimental step forward. Newton immediately closed the distance and wrapped his arms around Hermann without a second thought.

Newton buried his face in the layers of fabric on Hermann’s shoulders, breathing in the scent of chalk dust and detergent, and the barest hint of whatever spiced tea he’d gotten his hands on this week. Newton made a note to pick on him for not drinking plain old breakfast tea like a proper Englishman, but he’d save it for another day.

Hermann’s arms swung around his shoulders, and he pressed his face against Newton’s hair. He leaned heavily into him, like he’d wanted to do it for ages, and Newton chuckled against his collar bone. “So… If not ‘a’ plus ‘b’ equals ‘c’, what equation are we working with here?”

Hermann hummed into his hair, and Newton shivered. “I was thinking more… the force of gravity being equal to mass times acceleration.”

Newton laughed and pulled only his head back. “Seriously? A _Newton_ law? You’re laying it on real thick today, I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

Hermann gave Newton a playful whack to the back of the head. “I was thinking more along the lines of the inevitability that everything and every _one_ falls.” The implication of his words sank into Newton, and he clung tighter. He glanced down at Hermann’s sweater vest, kneading the fabric of it on Hermann’s back.

“Falls, huh?” He held fast and turned his grin up to him. “You mean like-…” He took a step backwards and watched the horror take over Hermann’s face.

“Newton, don’t you _dare-_ ”

“-This?” Another step.

“Do _not-!_ ”

The back of Newton’s legs met the bed and he toppled them both backward to Hermann shriek of indignation. The moment they landed, Hermann was laughing despite himself. He leaned back enough to look Newton in the eye again and brushed his fingers through Newton’s hair. “You are incorrigible.”

Newton shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.” He stuck a finger into the buttoned collar of Hermann’s shirt and tugged him down, slowly in case Hermann decided that this was moving too fast. As Hermann’s eyes lidded, Newton figured this was a good pace.

Hermann’s lips, thin as they were, were soft and tentative. They asked permission instead of taking hungrily, and Newton felt a swell of appreciation within the giddiness in his chest. There was nothing forced, or expectant. Hermann kissed like nothing else mattered, but not in the desperate way they showed in the movies. The whole dome could be coming down, and Hermann would be here, taking his sweet time, memorising the stubble of Newton’s face and pinch of the corners of his mouth, picking him apart like a formula. Newton smiled into his lips, and he felt Hermann shift just enough to recalculate this new data. “I think,” Newton mumbled between kisses, “That you’re equation isn’t clear enough.”

Hermann huffed a laugh against the kiss, sending shivers through Newton’s spine again. “You can’t,” A kiss, “Just leave it alone,” Another, “Can you?”

Newton ran his fingers through the undercut of Hermann’s hair and smirked. “I think you should be… using the universal law,” He took Hermann’s lips a little harder, pulling Hermann into it before pushing away. “The attraction between two masses is approximate to multiplying the masses of the objects and dividing them by the distance-”

“I _know_ the law, Newton, you don’t have to explain it to me-”

“I just mean,” He rubbed the back of Hermann’s head again, “That we fell towards _each other_. It wasn’t a one way street, Herms.”

Hermann went quiet, and his eyes grew watery. He sighed and gave him a smile that could have powered the shatterdome for weeks. “Oh _do_ shut up.” He leaned down and kissed him again.

Newton happily allowed the interruption.

~

If anyone saw Hermann escaping Newton’s room in the wee hours of the morning to be the first one to the lab the next day, nobody said anything. Not even Newton, who’d not been abandoned by any means, but warned of the departure with a soft kiss to his forehead when he whined and refused to rouse at the same time.

Newton arrived a scant hour later with his sleeves rolled up where they belonged, having not even remotely put his hair back together and allowed it to be messy, post-snuggle hair (much to Hermann’s dismay). There was a scraping of Newton dragging his tables back near the line where they belonged, a scoff at Hermann’s warning that their previous night was not an invitation to expose Hermann’s side of the lab to dangerous substances, and the return of music that had no business being the backdrop of their work. On the surface, Hermann scowled.

Inside, the madness was quelled, and he could finally concentrate again. “ _Honestly,_ Newton, the least you could do is keep your _noise_ down to a dull roar!”

Newton glanced up from the specimen he was splitting open with a grin. “What was that Hermann!? I can’t hear you!” He shouted over the guitar.

Hermann groaned and gripped his temples. “If I get a headache, I’m forcing you to walk to medical to get me the pain killers to combat it!”

Newton hovered a gloved hand near his ear. “I didn’t quite catch that, man!”

Hermann slammed his cane down against the floor and reared back to continue the battle, but Marshal Pentecost’s sturdy footsteps stuck his insults in his throat. They succeeded in forcing Newton to dial down the sound with his blue-free elbow.

The Marshal looked between the two of them, taking in Newton’s amused snickering and Hermann’s flustered body language. He arched another brow at Hermann. “Gentlemen,” He greeted, before turning back to Hermann alone. “I take it by the shouting, your issues have been worked out?”

Hermann scoffed. “If you want to call dealing with him blasting his poor taste in what he likes to call music and his insistent need to constantly _ignore_ me ‘worked out’, then-”

“I assume that’s a yes?” The marshal said, short. Hermann set his jaw. Pentecost must have seen the light in his eyes, and gave him a nod. “Good. I expect your work to reflect your improved working conditions, and I want the new numbers and findings in my hands by the end of day. Are we clear?”

Hermann gave a nod with a knowing stare before his gaze found the ground in respect. “Yes sir.”

Newton side eyed Hermann with an affectionate smirk. As the marshal turned to walk out of the room, Newton shot up from his table with bright eyes. “Oh, marshal! Wait a sec, I gotta show you something!” He ripped his gloves off and tossed them aside, launching himself over the line, despite Hermann’s sputtering, to shuffle through his books.

Hermann stomped over to him. “Newton, what on Earth do you think you’re doing!?”

“Showing you off!” Newton lifted the sketchbook with the staff drawings from the stack, and Hermann’s face grew red.

“ _Put that down immediately!_ ” Hermann reached out to grab at Newton’s sleeve and barely held him back from running for Pentecost. “I will shove your face directly into the kaiju viscera!”

Pentecost sighed, age creasing his face as he admirably resisting rolling his eyes. “Is this thing you have to show me necessary in furthering your research on the kaiju?”

Hermann managed to get an arm around Newton’s waist and yank him back toward the desk. “Absolutely not!” He shrieked.

“No, but it is _killer_ for morale!”

Pentecost turned away, to Hermann’s relief, and walked to the door. “Then it can wait, Dr. Geiszler. Keep up the good work, gentlemen!”

By the time the marshal was out of sight, Hermann had finally wrestled the book from Newton and slammed it down on his desk. “Do keep your hands out of my personal belongings! My hobbies are not anyone’s business but mine!”

Newton grinned at him. “What are you so embarrassed for? I meant it when I said it was good for morale! My ego is like three times bigger than it was yesterday!”

Hermann failed his fight against rolling his eyes, a crime he was sure the marshal would forgive, and scowled at Newton. “Yes, because that’s all we need is your ego to be any larger than it already is.”

Newton slipped his hands beneath the tweed blazer and tugged him forward until he was inches from Hermann’s face. “You filled a whole book with me, Hermann, I don’t know what you were expecting.”

Hermann scowl morphed instantly into a smile. “Perhaps it’s too much to hope for some humility every once in a while.”

“And you could stand to have a little less. Come on. Show off a little.” Newton checked the doorway and pressed a kiss to Hermann’s jaw.

Hermann hummed pleasantly, but flicked Newton in the ear. “I am not some peacock like you, Dr. Geiszler.”

Newton beamed at him, the same bright smile that stared up from a napkin pinned to a cork board in Newton’s quarters. Hermann forgot his frustration as Newton’s arms coiled around him further. Newton pressed a kiss to Hermann’s lips, swift and soft. “You _like_ it,” He insisted.

Hermann laughed. “I suppose I do.”

Newton took some time to stare into Hermann’s eyes, knowing what they saw in him under all that glaring. He felt warm and happy, nigh end of the world be damned.

Newton glanced down after a while when a feeling bled through his shirt, and his grin turned sheepish. “Uh, Hermann. I don’t wanna alarm you, but-” He pulled away, and sure enough, a portion of his shirt stuck to Hermann’s before peeling away, revealing a splotch of blue stain between them.

“Oh for god’s sake, _Newton!_ ” Hermann grabbed the collar of Newton’s shirt and dragged him toward the chemical showers. “There are safety protocols in place for a _reason!_ ”

“Aw, come on, it’s been neutralised, dude, it’s not even dangerous anymore!”

“ _That is not the point!_ ”

Newton grinned the whole way to the showers. The end of the world was coming, and they were backing the wilting, last line of defence, but as long as he had this- as long as he had Hermann- the future didn’t seem so bleak.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated!


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